


Chiaroscuro

by mokayno



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, M/M, Mystery, i'm not sure what else to tag right now., original concept, realtionship progression, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-09 01:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mokayno/pseuds/mokayno
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Without the dark, how are you supposed to see the light? [[NOT BEING UPDATED ANYMORE! SORRY!]]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fated Meetings

**Author's Note:**

> I know I need to work on 'When Good Heists Go Bad' but when an idea this good comes to you, you have to write it out. Bare with me, my lovelies.

It was a typical Saturday afternoon in June. The sun was attempting to turn the concrete outside back into liquid, and there was absolutely nothing on T.V. John huffed from his spot on the couch; his long limbs spread out over the cushions in hopes that the less his skin touched the cooler he’d be. God he was bored.

After flipping through the endless commercials, John rolled off the couch lazily. With a soft plop he landed on the ground and groaned. It was going to be a long day; he could just feel it in his bones. He slowly pushed himself off the ground, and stood up to stretch up his back. His Ghostbuster boxers stuck to his legs on his short journey to the fridge.

Opening the fridge, he bent down to peer inside hoping to find anything to calm his hungry stomach. He sighed as he looked through the contents. What could he make with cheese and butter? Oh yes, grilled cheese. His stomach growled loudly at the thought. He stood, closing the fridge with dairy products in hand and walked toward the counter.

He set the cheese and butter down, and opened his bread box. All of his hopes of having a grilled cheese went down the drain when he found it empty. He felt a rare scowl grace his face, and he closed the box with a pout.

“I guess I could go grocery shopping,” he said aloud to the cheese. He stared at it for a few moments, perhaps waiting for a response. When none came, he sighed again. Damn, that meant he had to actually put on _clothes._

A few hours later, and John found himself at the small grocery store down the street from his apartment. It’d taken him a while to force himself to put clothes on. It was just too hot outside. But, he greatly welcomed the air conditioned space of the grocery store. He figured if he shopped slowly enough, he could put off going outside again for at least another hour.

He pushed his cart full of food up and down the aisles, taking his time. Sometimes, he’d pull something off the shelf and stare at the ingredients for a few minutes. Who knew that high fructose corn syrup was in so much of the shit he ate? He wondered what that even was as he meandered down the cereal aisle, looking for the Rice Krispies.

A few shelves down and he spots them, but finds a man standing in the way. He looks at the man up and down. There isn’t anything special about him. He looks to be the same age as John; he stands with his hands in his jean pocket. A pair of aviators sat on top of his head as he squints at the writing on one of the cereal boxes. The man isn’t anything special, but John feels himself walk closer to the man as if being pulled to him.

“Hi, uh, I was wondering if you could scoot back a minute, you’re kind of in the way of the Rice Krispies,” John says as he approaches him, a small laugh escaping him nervously.

It takes a minute for the man to turn to look at John, and when he does it kind of scares John. The man’s eyes are red, and wide in shock. He looks around him, and when he finds no one else around, the aviator guy turns towards John.

“You can see me,” the man states, voice tinged with awe, as he continues to stare at John as if he’d grown an extra head.

“Uh, yah? Haha, and you’re standing in front of the Rice Kripsies,” John narrows his eyes in confusion, and tilts his head toward the cereal boxes.

“Wu- Oh, oh yah. Um…Sorry about that, I’m not used to people asking me to move out of the way,” he says as he slowly moves out of the way, eyes glued to John.

“What do they just bowl you over or something?”

“Haha, something like that.”

“Right, well I’m just going to grab my cereal now,” John walks toward the box cautiously, almost certain that this man has escaped from some kind of mental facility.

“I’m…I’m Dave, by the way,” he sounds elated, John feels suspicious.

“I’m…John,” no matter how suspicious he feels of this man, he couldn’t bring himself to give a pseudo-name. He grabs one of the bigger boxes and throws it into his cart.

Dave grins at John, “That’s a nice name, John. It’s…been a pleasure meeting you. I better be on my way home. Not looking forward to the heat, though. Heard its pretty killer out.”

“Ha, yah, I was doing my best to stay in here for as long as possible. Not looking forward to the walk home,” John can’t help the grin that spreads on his face.

“Haha, I hear you man. See ya,” Dave falters, staring at John with his eyes wide still and the grin plastered on his face.

John watches him walk down the aisle, and finds it odd how no one else in the store seems to pay him any attention. He walks to the end of the aisle, and pauses to look back at John. He gives a little wave, before disappearing behind the shelves. John stands rooted in his spot, unsure of why he feels strangely empty all of a sudden.

A few days later, John hops off the subway train on his way to visit with his sister living on the other side of town. He was walking towards the exit stairs when he spotted a familiar looking man standing in front of the station map. John paused in his path up the stairs, debating with himself if he wanted to go up to the strange man and say something.

Again, before he could stop himself, his feet began walking for him. He walked up to Dave, who was staring at the subway map with deep concentration. John looked over at the map, trying to figure out what Dave was looking at. When he couldn’t figure it out, he turned to look back at him, only to find Dave looking at him. His glasses shaded his eyes, but John could feel his eyes on him.

“It’s you again,” Dave furrowed his brow, and turned to face John with the rest of him, “And, you can still see me.”

“Uh…haha, yah? You’re Dave…from the grocery store, right?”

A small smile forms on Dave’s lips, but it looks strained, “Yah that’s me,” he pauses and looks as if he’s going to say something then closes his mouth and sighs.

“Are you okay dude? You’re looking a little lost,” John wasn’t an expert on body language, but the differences in Dave’s posture now from the other day was obvious to anyone with a brain. The dude looked like he’d been hit by a few buses, shoulders tense; the hands in his pockets held stoically as opposed to the lazy stance he held just days before.

“Heh, that’s a funny choice of words,” he mumbles to himself, “But, no…I’m not lost. Our meeting here today was inevitable. You can see me that must mean you’re the one to help me.”

“Uh, okay. That’s not vague at all, and totally not weird,” John was starting to feel weird around the guy, and like maybe he should be going. “My sister is going to start worrying about me, I uh… I better get going,” he pointed a thumb over his shoulder, trying to be polite incase crazy snapped.

Dave didn’t reply; he simply stared at John through his shades, giving him a simple nod. John nodded back, a little forcibly before he turned and high tailed it out of there. When he looked back he saw that Dave was gone. John quickly ran up the stairs, his heart thumping hard against his chest. What was going on with him lately?

The next day, John decided that maybe going out for a walk would help him clear his head. He’d been feeling strange since the day he’d run into Dave in the grocery store. He didn’t know how to explain the feeling to his sister when he’d told her about it. It was as if when he was around Dave, he felt…well…better than he’d felt in the last 20 years of his life. And, that scared him. He knew nothing of this man except that he probably had escaped some kind of mental institution.

This thought stayed with him all through his walk. He stared at his surroundings, and noticed that he was back on his street with no real memory of how he’d gotten there. He shook his head, and laughed at himself quietly. It’d been a while since he’d gotten that lost in his thoughts. He continued his trek toward his apartment building, but stopped mid-step at what he saw standing in front of his building. Actually, at who was standing there.

Dave stood, staring at the ‘apartments for rent’ sign hanging across the top of the building. His aviators were over his eyes again, but even from a distance John could see he looked puzzled. His hands were crossed over his chest, and he wore headphones around his neck. He looked as if he had just rolled out of bed and decided to stroll over to John’s for a visit. But, he couldn’t have unless he’d been following John. How else would he know where he lived? John’s heart raced as he approached Dave; he grabbed his arm, tugged it down and stared at him, his blue eyes hard.

“Are you _stalking_ me?”

“What,” Dave looked down at him, confusion plain on his face as he yanked his arm out of Johns grasp.

“I said, are you _stalking me_? Did you follow me here?”

“What are you talking about? Why would I follow you?”

“Because you’re weird and standing in front of my apartment building,” John spit out quietly. He couldn’t explain where this sudden anger was coming from. Maybe it was stress related, or the fact that this crazy guy kept popping into his life and he had no idea why.

“I am? That’s weird,” Dave replied, sounding genuinely confused as he looked back up at the sign, he muttered, “You can still see me. Why is that?”

“Why do you keep _saying_ that? Of course I can fucking see you,” John laughs quietly at how ridiculous this all sounds and mocks, “Unless you’re a ghost and you’re here to ask me to seek revenge on the one who killed you. I gotta say dude, I’m not interested. Perhaps you should find someone else to help you with that shit.”

“I’m not dead. I’m as alive as you are,” Dave replies as he turns to look over at John again, smiling warily.

“Then, what the fuck is going on? I keep running into you, if you’re not stalking me then what is it,” John states with a note of dejection and wariness of his own as he looks down at the sidewalk.

Dave sighs, and looks around as if worried someone will hear him. He leans down close to John, and John looks up at him with confusion.

“I can explain, I promise, but not here. Not in the open where _they_ could find me,” he whispers quietly.

“Who’re _they_? Is someone after you or something? Are you in trouble? Maybe, you should tell the police and not me,” John mutters out quietly, feeling a strange fear come over him.

“I can’t explain out here, besides the police can’t see me. Only you can. It’d do me no good,” Dave sighs and rubs his face tiredly as he stands up straight. He gives a little shrug, the hood of his hoodie sliding off his shoulders as he does, “You…don’t have to help me. But, you’re the only one who can. I think.”

Before John can stop himself, words fall out of his mouth, “I can’t promise I’ll believe you about any of this. You’re weird, and this is really dumb of me, but I’m choosing to give you the benefit of the doubt.”

Dave looks at him mildly surprised, and John can feel his face mirroring his look at his own words. What was he doing offering to help an insane man? But, he didn’t look all that insane, just…sad.

“I guess you should lead the way then,” Dave says quietly as he scans the crowds.

“Yah, I guess I should. Haha,” John walks up to the front door of his apartment, and opens it. He holds it open for Dave to walk through, like the gentleman he was raised to be, “this way to casa de John Egbert.”

“Egbert? Is that your last name,” Dave asks as he walks through into the stairwell, his question echoing off the walls. He looks over his shoulder at John, who follows him inside.

“Yah, it is. You got a problem with it…Dave,” he pauses before wondering aloud, “what’s your last name?”

“The names Strider, Mr. Egbert,” he all but grins as he says it.

John grins back, “and you say mine last name is dumb,” he holds his hand out to Dave for a handshake, “a pleasure to meet you Mr. Strider.”

Dave turns a little awkwardly on the stairs, and takes Johns hand in his. John can’t help the small gasp that escapes him at the skin on skin contact. Dave wasn’t kidding about not being dead, his hand was as warm as the air outside during the day.

“The pleasure’s all mine, John,” Dave says quietly as he winks, “Now which one’s yours?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be a multi-chapter fic. I already have chapter 2 written out in my head and started in Word. Everything will make more sense with chapter 2. I'll attempt to post chap. 2 next week if this gets enough views by then. I'll probably post it anyway. Anyway, thank you to those who read this, comments are most welcome.


	2. Can't Escape What's Destined To Be

John watches Dave walk into his apartment, and the general nervousness of having someone new in his space settles in his stomach. He shoves his hands in his pockets, and does a quick once over of the place. Suddenly, all the little messes that he’d been planning to clean up eventually seem to grow in size. He kicks his sneakers off by the door and rushes around trying to nonchalantly clean things up.

Dave follows John's lead, kicking off his converse by the door and looks around. He lifts his shades to sit on the top of his head, and does a little looking around himself. John hears him chuckle softly, and turns from his spot at the dining table to see Dave staring at him.

“What,” John asks, it coming out a little harsher than intended.

“Nothing, just…you don’t have to clean up, a little mess here and there just makes it feel more like home,” Dave grins.

John feels a soft blush forming, but shakes it off quick enough for it to not be a problem. He gestures at the table in front of him and pulls out a chair. He sits down quickly, hoping Dave will get the hint. He crosses his arms in front of him, doing his best to hide his nerves by putting his serious face on.

Dave gets the hint, and walks across John’s apartment toward the table. He walks around John, the table, and takes a seat across from John. He sets his hands on the table in front of him, and continues gazing around at John’s things littered here and there. John watches as Dave clasps his hands together and unclasps them. John realizes Dave's just as nervous as he is.

“I see you like the Ghostbusters,” he gestures toward a pair of boxers laying out a top the couch back, “The first movie was alright but the second movie was just pure shit.”

“I thought they were both works of art, the second is my favorite,” John pouts a little, trying to keep the blush off his cheeks, “Enough small talk though. I still want to know why you’ve been following me. I met your end of the bargain, so…” John unfolds his arms and gestures lamely, “explain.”

“Sorry,” Dave looks down at his clasped hands bashfully, “I’m not…used to talking to anyone who isn’t my brother. You know the whole people not being able to see me thing. It kind of makes meeting new people a little weird,” Dave’s eyes finally land on John, who squirms a little in his seat.

“Right. That’s a good place to start. Are you some kind of magical fairy thing? A vampire? Someone that needs to be returned to the loony bin,” John’s eyebrows shoot up as he leans forward against the table toward Dave.

“No, I promise you I’m none of those things. I’m a human being just like you. What I have isn’t some superpower, or other dumb as fuck comic book shit. I was just…born differently,” Dave turns his attention back to his hands on the table.

“What like a C-Section,” John asks, confusion seeping into his tone.

Dave laughs at that, and peeks up at John before staring at his hands again, “No man, I was born outta my momma’s special place just like most everyone else. I even have a birth certificate back at home if you want me to show it to you someday.”

“Okay, so then what’s so different about you? I mean, other than the people not being able to see you thing.”

Dave sits up and rolls his shoulders, sighing. He looks John straight in the eye, “I’ll answer that with full out honesty, but you have to promise me something first.”

“Alright,” John replies, uncertainly.

“Promise me that you won’t kick me out until you’ve heard everything I have to say. Just…listen. That’s all I’m asking for. If you don’t like my answer, I promise I’ll leave and I won’t come back.”

John looks at Dave, studying him hard. He looks for any telltale signs of someone who’s lying. But Dave holds eye contact his hands lay clasped on the table in front of him. The guy may be nervous, but he’s not lying.

“Alright, I’ll let you explain yourself before I throw you out.”

Dave smirks at that, “I’m going to need some paper.”

When Dave is settled with his paper at the table, and John sat next to him to see better, he begins talking again. Dave takes a deep breath in and lets it out slowly.

“Alright. This is going to sound really fucking weird, but bear with me,” he pauses with uncertainty, before continuing, “I’m what is called Light,” he holds the pen in his right hand and writes out the word and draws flames above it, “The Light have a counter-part, who is basically their soul mate, they’re called Darks,” he begins to scribble on the paper, and below that he writes out the word.

“There are three, uh…types of people who can see Lights,” he draws a tick mark on the bottom of the page, “other Lights,” another tick mark, “people who are basically destined to meet a Light,” the last tick mark, “their dark. Otherwise, people kind of just don’t see us.”

John stares at the paper as Dave writes above the tick marks, _people who can see me._ He looks at the paper, and points at the flames Dave had drew.

“So, this is you,” Dave nods, “Is that why your hair is so lightly colored?”

Dave chuckles softly, “I don’t know, maybe?”

“Why fire,” John questions and looks up at Dave.

Dave looks back at John, his red eyes boring into John’s blue, “because fire is fucking awesome.”

John looks away, and taps the fire again, "what makes you...this light thing? You say you're a human, but you were born differently? What's the difference?"

"I'm a normal human being, as far as I know the only difference is something in my DNA," Dave looks spacey for a moment, before he comes back down to Earth, "Mom was never really clear about that, always avoided the subject when Dirk, or I asked."

John nods, feeling somewhat satisfied with his answer. He looks down at the scribbles, “the darks, you said they’re a lights soul mate? I don’t get that. Why can’t a light just get with another light?”

“Think about it, John. When there’s already light out, and you turn on a flashlight does that help you to see better?”

“Well, if you’re in a shadowy area…oh."

“Darks though, they're just like anyone else, except they're pretty much specially made for their Light. The really cliché as fuck way to say it is that they help a light to shine,” Dave leans back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest.

“Do you have your dark, then?”

“Ha, no…if I did then I wouldn’t have the little problem of no one being able to see me,” Dave looks over at John curiously, “You’re taking this awfully well. I’m surprised you haven’t kicked me out yet.”

“Well, I don’t know…I guess I just don’t feel like you’re lying to me,” John leans forward and looks over the paper, “I don’t understand this destiny thing though. So you just meet some random person, and destiny decides that they can see you or not…that sounds dumb, dude.”

“Hey, I don’t make the rules. Besides, don’t you think it’d be really fucking weird if my mom went to the hospital clearly pregnant, and then she gave birth to nothing? I told you, I was born in a hospital, birth certificate and everything. The doctors and nurses had to meet me in order for me to be here today,” Dave wiggles his fingers, “destiny.”

“Yah, okay…but I’m not a light. Why can I see you? What am I to you?”

“I don’t know John,” Dave sighs, “All I know is that you’re probably meant to help me with this little problem I've run into the last couple of days.”

“What problem exactly,” John asks doubtfully.

Dave is quiet for a few moments before he answers quietly, “ _Th_ _ey_ took my brother, I’m sure it was them. Since, you’re currently the only person I know of that can see me…You’re the only one who can help me get him back.”

“Uh…Who are _they_ exactly, and what do they want with your brother?”

Dave sits forward, picking the pen up again. He adds a fourth tick mark away from the other three; he writes next to it the word ‘they.’

“As far as I’ve been able to find out so far, _they_ are an anomaly in this world; more-so than myself. What they want, I’m not sure exactly. But, I think they took Dirk because…well I think he found his dark,” Dave mindlessly doodles in the opposite corner of the notebook paper as he speaks.

“How do you know that? Did he tell you,” John asks feeling himself getting pulled further into this mysterious man's story.

“Not…exactly,” Dave pauses in his drawing and looks around the room abashedly, “I read it in his diary.”

John looks at Dave, and laughs at him in shock, “not only does your brother write in a diary, but you fucking _read_ it? Wow, Dave. That’s fucking lame.”

Dave grins and tilts his head down in shame, “Okay, I admit its lame, but that’s not the point. He last wrote in it around Wednesday. The only entry said, “I found him,” which honestly could have been any number of people, like our older brother for instance. But, see I know Dirk, and he’s been a little obsessed with finding his dark ever since mom ran off.”

“He found his dark, so what? Why would _they_ care,” John decided to steer away from any mommy issues Dave might have and focus on the important parts for now.

“Because, weren’t you paying attention, Egbert? When a light finds his dark, they can be seen by everyone.”

“Yah, but why would they care about that?”

Dave simply shrugs in response.

“What do you know? How in the world am I supposed to help you with this,” John says with exasperation clear in his tone, throwing his hands up in defeat.

“Look, I’ve done the best I could so far with what little resources I’ve had. Which, by the way, is just Dirk’s fucking diary. It’s not like I can really go around and question people the whereabouts of my brother,” Dave replies, sounding mildly aggravated, he reaches into his jeans pocket and pulls out a small card, “I found this business card taped to the inside cover. It has to mean something.”

John takes it from Dave, and reads it:

Musical Circles  
334 Pretend Ave.  
New York, New York

He sets it down on the table and looks over at Dave.

“That has got to be the dumbest name for a record store in the history of record store names.”

“Yah, I can’t even find the irony as to why my brother frequented the place, but I know that that’s where we need to go.”

“And, you need me to go with you because you can’t talk to the owner of the place?”

“Yah, that’s basically it.”

“After that, I’m good? You don’t need me anymore?”

“Yah, I mean…Should be it. I don’t want to burden your normal person life any more than a person who can’t be seen by anyone else needs to,” Dave rolls his eyes.

“So, then that would make our meeting destined to happen…nothing more, right?”

“Dude, don’t get your panties in a bunch, okay? I’m pretty sure I’d be able to tell within seconds if I met my dark,” Dave says doubt clear in his tone.

It's quiet, the air thick with a contemplative silent. 

John breaks the silence, mumbling to the table,“I still don’t know why I kept running into you this week. I mean…you said you weren’t stalking me, and you were always just kind of standing around like you were confused as to how you got there.” 

“I wasn’t stalking you. It was probably that fate, or destiny bullshit at work. I just let my feet do the walking while I spaced out, I don’t remember going to half of those places. All I knew was my feet knew where they were going, and they haven’t let me down so far,” he taps his feet against the floor, as if to prove his point.

“Oh, that’s weird…I had the same feeling at least twice. It was like I couldn’t stop myself from walking up to you,” John stares at Dave, a strange realization washing over him.

Dave wiggles his fingers at John, “it’s destiny, John. All part of an intricate fabric that fate has laid out for us all, there’s no escaping it’s threads.”

“That sounds really daunting, dude. Maybe you should get out more.”

“Dude, what you just said is like the equivalent of telling a deaf person to just listen harder.”

“Haha, yah I guess you’re right. My bad,” John pulls his phone out of his pocket and checks the time, “holy shit it’s late. Do you, maybe, want to just crash on my couch tonight. I’m not doing anything tomorrow and we can go to the record store in the morning. I mean, if you want that is.”

“That would be pretty awesome, man, I’m beat and walking home alone just gives them more of a chance to get me too. Although, I’m not sure if they’re interested in me very much.”

“Yah, until _they_ find out that you’re searching for your brother.”

“Well yah, there’s that,” Dave stands up from the table and stretches his back, “Ah man, that felt amazing after sitting on that wooden death trap for a good two fucking hours.”

John follows suit, and begins his trek toward his bedroom door. He says over his shoulder, “make yourself at home in the living room, bathroom is down the hall first door on the right.”

“Thanks again,” Dave calls out to John, “for everything.”

John pauses, turning to look at Dave and smiles widely for the first time in days, “no problem. Any decent human being would do the same thing.”

“Haha, I’ll believe that when I see it. Night,” Dave gives a little wave.

John returns it with a wave of his own, “Night, man. Sweet dreams,” he giggles a little as he makes his way to his bedroom.

Briefly, he questions himself about whether or not he’s gone insane; letting this strange man sleep here, especially after all that he’d told him tonight. But, he just couldn’t bring himself to not believe Dave. He climbs into bed with images of glowing people dancing in his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that all made sense. I did my best to answer all the questions in the fic, if you don't understand something feel free to leave a comment. I hope that you guys enjoy! This was a lot of fun to write, oh my gosh. Also, side-note chapter 6 for my other fic will be up sometime this week. Thanks to all of you who have read so far! P.S. do not let me name things at 1 in the morning (like record stores).


	3. There's just so much PANCAKES

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to start off by profusely apologizing for taking so damn long to update this. I had lost my muse for a while, but I think I got it back. I promise I'm going to try harder to update this more frequently!!

A loud ringing sound cuts through John's dreams, effectively pulling him out of dreamland. When he finally manages to open his eyes and hit the snooze, he notices a faint smell of food wafting in through his closed bedroom door. He crinkles his forehead in confusion. He rubs his head to help clear some of the sleep from his brain. 

He had been having the weirdest dream. He laughed quietly to himself about how ridiculous it had all been. Invisible people only visible to people they were destined to meet? He really needed to lay off the junk food, especially if it was going to give him crazy dreams like that. John would never just let some random stalker off the street into his home.

The smell of breakfast wafted over John's nose again. That was something that he couldn't ignore. Had Jade come over to check up on him? He had been acting pretty out of the ordinary when he was visiting with her a few days ago. He stretched his arms above his head, letting out a yawn as he did.

John grabs his glasses from his bedside table, making sure to turn his alarm clock off. He grabs a shirt from the floor, throwing it on as he makes his way to his door. Another yawn escapes as he opens the door. His feet pad against the carpet as he walks down the hall toward the kitchen. It's clear that someone is cooking breakfast by the sound of the clattering coming from the room.

“Jade, what are you doing he-” John says as he rounds the corner, pausing just inside the door frame when he sees the man from his crazy dream standing in his kitchen.

“You're not Jade,” John chokes out eloquently as he eyes the apron the other man has on.

“That I am not,” the man responds with a slight smirk, flipping what appears to be a pancake.

“So, you're real. I mean...All the crazy talk, and shit...it's real?” John questions, rubbing his arm and rocking on his heels with nervousness.

Dave pats himself down the front of his apron, as if to check for himself if he was indeed, real. He turns a little at the stove to meet John's eyes, a playful smirk gracing his face.

“Well, would you look at that. I am a real boy!” the smirk turns to a full out grin.

“Haha. Very funny, jackass. Let's make fun of John,” John rolls his eyes, and walks into the kitchen toward Dave. He peers into the pan on the stove top, and sees pancakes. His mouth starts to water at the thought.

“I hope you don't mind that I did a little snooping around in your kitchen. You have basically no food, did you know that?” Dave says, turning back to the pancake, lifting a corner to check if it was ready to be flipped.

John blushes a little at the thought of Dave rummaging around in his things. He glances down at the apron around Dave again, and wonders where the hell that came from. Did he even own an apron? From what he could remember, he did not.

“Uh...I guess not. What are you making pancakes for anyway? For that matter, where the hell did you even get pancakes?” John looks around Dave at the counter with a mixing bowl and pancakes ingredients sat on top of it. He notices the absence of an actual pancake box.

Dave glances over at the mixing bowl, then looks sheepishly over at John.

“They're a way for me to say thanks, you know, for helping me today and shit. Considering you just met me,” Dave flips the pancake before opening the oven door, and placing the freshly made pancake on top of a stack of about 20 already made pancakes. So many pancakes.

“Jesus, how many pancakes did you fucking make?”

“A fuckton of pancakes, man, so many fucking pancakes. I fucking woke up at like 5am to make all of these goddamn pancakes. From scratch. Better appreciate them motherfucker.”

“You can make pancakes without a box?”

Dave turns and stares at John wordlessly.

“You're fucking kidding, right?”

After discussing the mechanics behind the true art of pancake making, the boys sat down at the table to actually enjoy them. John carefully cut into his, and cautiously took a bite. He could feel Dave watching him as he did, waiting for a reaction. John couldn't deny that these pancakes were the shit, and began to dig in like hungry hippo.

The room was silent save for the clanks of cutlery scraping against plate, and the soft chewing sounds of the two occupants.

“You should tell me about yourself,” Dave said, talking through a mouthful of pancakes.

John looks over at Dave, fork hovering mid-air in front of his mouth. He sets his fork back down on his plate, his expression turning to one of confusion.

“Why?” John asks.

Dave shrugs nonchalantly, cutting into one of his pancakes, “I don't know man. Maybe, 'cuz I can count on one hand the people I've talked to throughout my lifetime. Just thought it'd be interestin', s'all. Don't have to tell me nuthin personal. Just the general where you're from, occupation, who you're fuckn' type deal.” Dave peaks over at John, before returning his gaze to his pancakes.

John feels himself blush, but at what exactly he wasn't sure. Was it the sudden appearance of a southern accent, the fact that he'd stupidly forgotten Dave's predicament, or the last thing the other had said? Or was it because here was someone who seemed legitimately interested in hearing about John's life.

“I guess,” John starts slowly, “it wouldn't hurt to tell you the basics. I mean, my professors are always doing this sort of thing at the start of every semester.” John scoffs a little, before returning to his food.

“What sort of thing?” Dave looks over at John curiously.

“Oh you know, they all think they're cool and hip by having the class introduce themselves individually. Sometimes they switch it up a bit, giving you a paper with a list of traits on it. The goal is then to find someone in the room that has one of the listed traits and have them sign it.”

Dave raises his eyebrows at John, “that sounds really dumb, dude.”

“It _is_ dumb! Not to mention how stupid my classmates are. You'd be surprised to learn that most of them are going for genetics.” John scowls at his pancakes at a particular horrid memory.

“Is that what you're going for?” Dave asks, again curious.

“Yah, it's some really interesting stuff! But, some of the work can be daunting as fuck.”

A lull in conversation washes over the table as the boys think over things.

“So, what's your deal? Are you from New York, or are you from out of state?” Daves voices cuts through the silence.

“Oh, I'm from Washington. Haha, I know it seems kind of silly to fly all the way to New York just to go to school,” John shrugs, “But, it's nice to get away from home. Definitely nice to get away from all that cake. Besides, my sister lives down here.”

Dave smiles a little, “must be nice, man.”

“Haha, yah I guess it's nice to be able to see her whenever I want. She can be a real pain in my ass, but I still love her.”

“Yah, I hear ya. If you ever meet my bro, don't you ever tell him I said this,” Dave looks at John pointedly, “and I'll deny ever have. He may be the biggest asshole this side of the Mississippi, but he's still my bro. That's why I gotta get him back.” Dave looks down at his plate, pushing around left over food crumbs in his syrup.

John watches Dave silently for a few moments. He can tell by looking closer at him that he didn't sleep well, if he even slept at all. Even though Dave gives off an air of laid back nonchalance, John can tell that his brother being missing had to be tearing him apart inside.

He thinks about how he'd react if Jade went missing. He'd probably first be in shock, and then he'd be determined to get her back; no matter the means. John thinks that, perhaps, this is how Dave is feeling right now. Determined to get his brother back, even if all he has to go on is a business card, and a stranger to count on.

John leans across the table, a surge of understanding washing through him, “Don't worry, buddy, we'll find him.” John grins what he hopes to be a comforting smile, “But first, we gotta clean up,” he motions at the dirty plates laid out on the table.

Dave smirks up at John in return, “thanks,” he says quietly then very quickly yells out, “Not it!”

John groans, “you motherfucker.”

After they had cleaned up their dishes, and other various items that had gotten messed up in the process, they make their way out of Johns apartment. Business card in hand, John stares down at the address printed on it.

“I think we should have no problem walking there, it looks like it's just a few blocks from here,” John says as he looks up from the business card to Dave.

Dave stands there stoically, and shrugs in response. Out of the corner of Johns eye he sees some passerby eying John oddly. He looks over at them, and they quickly look away. His face scrunches up in confusion, and he turns to look back at Dave.

“What the hell is their problem?” John questions.

Dave shrugs again, “Face it dude, talking to me in public is gonna get you a few odd looks here and there. They'll probably think you're talking to Casper the Friendly fucking ghost, or better yet to the voices in your head.”

John huffs in frustration, “Still,” he looks across the street, folding his arms across his chest in annoyance. He sees some kids sitting on a bench directly across the street from him, staring at him with wide eyes.

“It's rude of them to stare!” He shouts across the street at the kids, who quickly hop off the bench and run off down the street. John grins to himself, feeling accomplished.

“Alright man, stop harassing some kids, you asshole,” Dave says, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“But Dave, the voices in my head told me to,” John replies with as straight of a face as he can muster.

Dave stares at him a moment, before bursting out in laughter. John grins wide, chuckling along with Dave. He notices that this is the first time he's heard Dave so much as chuckle.

The trip to the music store was relatively uneventful after that. Save for a few stares when John would forget no one else could actually see Dave. And, John got to witness first hand a man almost run into Dave before he changed direction last minute, spilling his mocha all down his front. He decided he'd ask Dave later how that worked.

Arriving at the store, Dave stands outside and stares at the window with various instruments on display. The store itself isn't anything special to look at . Just the typical locally owned music shop in a downtown shopping area. With two big windows on the front, one with the store name emblazoned across it's length in a wacky font; the other John could see through into the store. A tiny wooden door was all that is between them and the possibility of finding Dirk.

John walks up to the door, reaching for the handle before a hand stops him. He turns to look over at the owner of the hand. Dave looks nervous, bouncing a little on the heels of his feet.

“Dude, what?” John asks, feeling a little impatient.

“Do...Do you think I should come in?” Dave asks, the nervousness creeping into his voice.

“Duh you should. How else am I going to know who to talk to and what to ask? Gosh Dave, just relax!”

Dave clears his throat, “Right, I should have thought of that,” he takes a deep breath in, letting it out slowly, “Alright, let's get this over with,” Dave responds, still sounding unsure.

John walks in anyway, not wanting to waste anymore time. He can hear Dave following him in closely. A bell above the door tinkles softly as they enter. A quick scan of the store reveals that they're the only ones around. John spots the counter sitting a little to his left, CD racks cluttering the space. He makes his way over to it, figuring it'd be a good place to start.

On the desk in between some sample CDs sits a service bell with a worn out note taped in front of it. The note happily claimed that hitting the bell would inform an employee that you needed assistance. John reached over to ring it, but once again interrupted by a hand blocking his path. Though this time, he didn't know the owner. In fact, he didn't even notice any one walking over.

“No need to ring that nasty ol' bell, gents, as here I am! Jake English at your service. Now, what can I do you for today, lads?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I just want to quick add that I've made a new tumblr just for my writing if anyone's interested. It's mainly for you guys to ask questions, and it's a great place to figure out why I haven't updated yet. The tumblr is: mokayno.tumblr.com so feel free to check it out. There's not a whole lot of content yet though. Have a great day everyone!


	4. IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE!!!

Dear my readers,

I have thought long and hard about this fic off and on for the past few months. I've attempted to write chapter 4 multiple times, and it has been really hard to grind it out. But, I don't want to discontinue this story and I don't want to leave anyone disappointed. So, I've come up with a plan that will help me finish the next couple of chapters, and finish this story for all of you to enjoy.

Here's what I'm going to do:

  * First I'm going to go through the already written chapters and fix a few things in them that I haven't been really happy with since day one. These things include:



                        1. Fixing the point of view from Third Person to First Person.   
                                  Why? Because one of the reasons it's been so hard for me to crank out Chapter 4 is I'm not comfortable with Third Person. I started writing this in Third as a challenge to myself, but clearly I haven't been able to do that. I'll continue "WGHGB" in the Third Person and Second Person though simply because that one is already too long to change. Also, because I feel the next few chapters would be better to read in First Person. It will still be from Johns POV.

                        2. Going through and better explaining certain things.  
                                  Why? Because I feel that I didn't do a very good job of explaining everything the first time around. 

                        3. Just go through and revamp the already presented chapters. (Something I honestly should have done the first time.)

  * Second I'm going to finish writing Chiaroscuro before I actually post the remaining or revamped chapters?  
              Why? Because I don't want to have to make you all wait any longer than you already have. I want to have everything done and ready to be presented right away before I go through and post it willy nilly. 



I already have an outline of the Chapters set up, and I do know how the story is going to go and how it will end. I just haven't been able to write it, which is why I haven't posted in a while. How long will this take me to do? I'm giving myself a deadline of Thanksgiving. It might be a little hard to accomplish and force myself to go through to get it done. But, I'm going to do my absolute best to stay on target. As of right now there will be 8 chapters, and an epilogue. So, it shouldn't be too hard to get this done in the time period I've allotted.

If you guys have any questions feel free to contact me at:

[My Writing Blog](http://mokayno.tumblr.com/) (Which needs to be fixed) 

or my

[Main Blog](http://musicfreakyzoid.tumblr.com/)

Thank you all for being so patient with me and my dumbass! I hope to get this story back up and running in no time. :) <3

 


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